


Dream Team

by Flightofthefirefly



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, I'm so sorry, M/M, So much angst, so is Max, tendo and herc are back bc i love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightofthefirefly/pseuds/Flightofthefirefly
Summary: Fix it fic after the events of Uprising.  Precursor emissary Newt was captured and is being held by the PPDC and Hermann tries to save him. Cue some Gay shit.





	Dream Team

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god so I've never published anything before because I'm and adhd goblin and I've never managed finished a fic... I'm going to post each chapter as I finish it and I have no idea how long I want this to be. This is probably going to suck but the world needs more Newmann fics, even if they're shitty so good luck!

They had done it. It had been close, too close, but the world was safe from the Kaiju and their masters once again. Hermann sighed as he sat down onto the edge of his matress. He winced as pain flared in his hip and shot down to his knee. Between flying to Shaolin Industries, the fight with Newt, and everything that happened back at the Moyulan Shatterdome, he had put too much strain on his leg and gotten too little rest. 

Hermann reached for the bottle of pain meds he kept beside his bed and twisted the lid off. He didn't take them often, they made him tired and more prone to the nightmares he'd been experiencing since his drift with Newt and Otachi's baby 10 years prior, but tonight he took two and swallowed them without bothering to drag himself to the bathroom for a cup of water to wash them down. 

He put the lid back on and tossed the bottle in the direction of the table - and missed, something that could be remedied when exhaustion wasn't weighing down his limbs. Toeing off his shoes first, he drew his legs up onto the bed. He had barely been able to make it back to his room after Ranger Lambert's voice had come over the comms announcing that he had secured Newt, much less stay standing long enough to change into something clean. He collapsed backwards, the cold fabric of the pillow against his cheek a welcome relief. He struggled for a few moments to pull the sheets down past his legs before laying back. 

Finally alone in the dark and privacy of his room, Hermann allowed himself to feel everything he'd been avoiding since Mako Mori's helicopter went down in Sydney, since Newt - no, since the things controlling Newt had made their motives known to him, and here in the safety of his room he could afford to be honest with himself, since Newt packed up his side of the lab 10 years ago and left the PPDC. Left him.

"Newton," his voice shook as he breathed the man's name into the silence. 

Hermann had not allowed himself to cry for Mako, who he had the privilege of watching grow up in various shatterdomes. He had not cried for her father and the young Ranger Hansen when they sacrificed themselves 10 years ago to save them all. Not even for the Kaidanovsky's, who had gifted Hermann his favorite green paraka - one of Newt's favorite pieces of Hermann's wardrobe to make fun of. Even that brief memory of Newt was painful to recall, and tears welled up in Hermann's eyes, blurring his vision. Newt always had been an exception. He managed to worm his way past all of Hermann's carefully constructed defenses right into his heart. 

How could the man that he once thought of as his closest friend have fallen so far? He could still feel Newt's hands around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. The hate burning bright in his eyes, the distortion of his voice as the precursors came forward. The tears he had been trying to hold back spilled over and burned their way down his face. His chest tightened and he had to fight to draw in air. The shuddering gasps he was taking echoed in the room around him as he struggled to control his breathing. 

Hermann sat up, resting his forearms on his knees, still gasping for air. The precursors had come so close to winning this time. If Lady Avenger hadn't managed to stop the mega Kaiju before it had reached the volcanic peak, he wouldn't even be lying here right now. The whole world would be choking and dying under clouds of dust and ash. 

Hermann slid over to the edge of the bed and pushed himself up on shaky legs. He grabbed his cane from where it rested by his bed and staggered to the bathroom, stopping in front of the sink. The pipes groaned weakly as he turned the faucet and reached for the glass he kept sitting above the sink. He raised it to his mouth, but his hands were shaking and water spilled over the sides and soaked into the fabric of his shirt. He drained it in a few gulps, then set it heavily back on its shelf above the sink. As he turned to go back to bed, he glanced up at the small mirror above the sink and froze. 

He was looking at himself, one that was years younger, but it was him nonetheless. He looked as ragged as Hermann currently felt with a face was covered in dirt and blood was dripping from his nose. Hermann raised a hand to his face and wiped at the skin above his mouth, but his hand came away clean. He looked back up and met the reflections eyes, and was greeted by one brown eye and another with a deep red ring around it. 

"Gott," he croaked, his mouth suddenly dry and knees feeling weak from shock. 

He tore his eyes away from his face down to the bloodstained collar of his dress shirt and the striped sweater vest that was covered in dirt and kaiju excretions. 

Hermann's eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of memories and emotions that hit him like a freight train. He had gone to the kaiju site on Marshall Pentecost's orders to assist Newt, which led to him offering to split the neural load in his drift with Otachi's baby. It had been terrifying and breathtaking, and when it was over he mourned the loss of that connection with Newt and how close he had felt to his lab partner during those few precious moments.

He opened his eyes, but all that was left in the mirror was a noticeably older, paler version of the man from that night. He stood breathing heavily before he shook his head and turned to leave, flipping the light switch off as he stumbled back into his room, adrenaline already fading from his system, leaving him shivering and tired. 

"It was the panic attack and lack of sleep, nothing more," he assured himself as he moved slowly back to his bed. 

It creaked sightly under his weight as he lowered himself back down and rolled over to face the wall. The painkillers were starting to take effect and Hermann surrendered to the wave of exhaustion that rolled over him, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, and slept.


End file.
